Straight as an Arrow
by ShatteredPrisms
Summary: In which Castiel Novak, Lebanon High School junior, deals with existential crises, homecoming, prom, and being not-quite-out-of-the-closet. Also, Dean Winchester's ass.


**Chapter One**

 **The Novak Life.**

Castiel's life is clean-cut, simple. His schedule "leaves room for friends" as his mom liked to put it. Monday through Friday is school; don't miss a day unless you're too sick to make the walk. Saturday is violin practice, and the occasional recital. Sunday is church. Anytime you aren't doing one of those is free time.

Well, his life was supposed to be clean-cut and simple. To anyone else on the outside looking in, it was. But if you were on the inside looking out, well, that was a different story. His schedule was more like this:

Monday through Friday is school; don't miss a day even if you're too tired to go, even if you don't think you can take the taunting and the bullying, even if getting up makes you want to kill yourself. Saturday is violin practice, which wasn't so bad, especially since he had gotten pretty good and had managed to talk his tutors out of signing him up for any recitals. Sunday is church. Doesn't matter if you're too sick to walk. You go to church, because God is number one, and God can heal you, and God and God and God. And as for friends, he didn't have time for other people, he didn't have the energy for other people, and he didn't have any friends in the first place.

So Monday rolls around and yeah, it's one of those days. He throws on a cardigan and some jeans, fumbles with the comb even though it doesn't really do any good. Castiel feels like his eyelids are glued together, even as he pounds on Anna's door and then stumbles down the hall to the kitchen. His father is sitting in his usual place in the living room, hunched over a paper that was either today's or yesterday's.

"Good morning, Castiel," Charles Novak calls, as always, without looking up. "Have a nice day at school."

"'Morn'ng," Castiel mumbles in response, dragging a hand through his hair. Anna tumbles down the hall behind him, slamming into his back.

"Hurry up! Late!" Anna shoves by, yells "Morning, Dad!" at their father, and wrenches the door open. "CAS! Come on!" And so he does, still tired, hungry, and pretty sure that Monday was going to be horrible.

It was. There was a pop quiz in first class, which would normally be fine by him, except he had collapsed into bed last night and hadn't studied. Which earned him a C, which was to be stuffed in the bottom of his backpack until he could get rid of it later. The next three classes were okay, except in biology he sat directly behind the tallest guy in the entire school, some genius sophomore taking eleventh-grade advanced classes.

Lunch was a blur of trying to cram for his advanced chemistry test next class, and then P.E. was horrible, per the usual standard. Castiel rushed to change, and successfully avoided being cornered in the locker room.

As he made his way through the hall towards the main entrance, Anna rushed by, yanking the door to the art classroom open. "Hey, Cassie-" Castiel cringed at the name, "I'm gonna be awhile. Meeting today." Anna pulled a little flag out of her backpack and fluttered it in Castiel's face. "Keep this for me? Thanks, lil bro, I've gotta go."

She shoved the flag into his hands, and he blindly put it into his backpack as he neared the front entrance.

"Hey, Cassie."

That was not a friendly voice. Oh, but most definitely not. Castiel walked a little faster, feeling the November air on his face, nearly tasting freedom. Then he was spinning, the straps of his backpack yanked backwards. "No, don't you realize the fags meet in there?"

The boy pointed at the art classroom, the same one Anna had just went into. Castiel was utterly confused. That was a student council meeting, wasn't it? "What, little Cassie didn't know his sister was a lesbian?"

Castiel's tormenter is a senior, a boy named Something-Doyle. He catches him nearly every week, like a shark following a blood trail, no matter what evasive maneuver Castiel takes.

A swell of something like anger flushed his face. "Don't talk about my sister." Wow, okay, he meant for that to sound more threatening than it did. Doyle laughed, something between choking and having a full-body spasm.

"Why? Hm?" Doyle shoved Castiel into the lockers with a resounding clang.

And then something amazing happened. A teacher walked around the corner. Doyle immediately eased off of Cas, and 'playfully' punched his shoulder. Castiel's face contorted in disgust, and so Doyle leaned in and and said, "See you tomorrow, Cassie." Great. As Doyle walked down the hall and practically punched the door open, Castiel sighed, ran a hand through his hair, checked himself for bruises. His back hurt where a locker was digging into his spine, but other than that he was okay.

A hand fell on his shoulder, and he jumped. "Castiel? You alright?" It was the teacher that walked around the corner, who also happened to be Castiel's history teacher.

"Y-yes, Mr. Caleste." It was true, he was alright. No prominent injuries that day.

"Okay. Have a nice evening, Castiel." The tall man turned on his heel and headed straight to the art classroom. When he opened the door, Castiel could hear his sister's voice, but she was cut off when the door shut behind Mr. Caleste.

He huffed, and turned toward the entrance. He planned to run home as fast as humanly possible and head straight to his room, until his parents told him to come down for dinner. By that time Anna would be home, and he could go back up to her room after eating and ask her about what kind of meeting was happening in the art classroom.

"SAGA," she answered simply.

Castiel stared at her, mouth slightly open.

"Sexuality and Gender Acceptance." Anna's voice was hushed, because yeah, her parents would flip their shit if they knew. Castiel, however, was her younger brother, the person she could tell anything (Nearly anything. Well, mostly anything.) without him automatically judging her.

"You're gay?" he asked, and a note in his voice quivered.

She SHHH'ed him, and motioned for him to shut the door. He did. "No, Cassie, I'm just an ally. I'm straight, I just support people who're 'outside the social norm' when it comes to their sexuality and gender." She put air quotes around "outside the social norm" as she said it, and Castiel was just watching her, fidgeting with the bottom of his tan cardigan. "Like Gabriel," she adds. Castiel licked his lips, shuffled around a little, because Gabriel "Isn't to be spoken of under the Novak roof!" according to Mr. Novak.

"You mustn't tell Mother and Father," she says after a second, and it was one of the few moments Castiel could see right through the leather jacket (which she hides from their parents-Castiel could see it in his peripheral vision, a sleeve sticking out of her backpack) and the occasions she smells like something herbal (and, yes, she hides that too, covers it with too much perfume). She was the redheaded girl that said mustn't and sounded distinctly Northern and wore a bow in her hair because Mother wanted her to.

"I won't," he said, and stole a glance at the leather jacket peeking from her bag. "I won't tell, Anna."

She grinned, all teeth, and the little girl was gone. "Thanks, Cassie. Knew I could count on you. Hey, so, I told you a secret, you owe me one." Anna winked, and then shoved Castiel towards the door. "Go finish your homework, nerd." She ruffled his hair, opened the door, and effectively kicked him out while making him feel pretty good about himself. Anna always knew how to make him feel better with random stuff like that,

Castiel actually did go finish his homework, and then checked over it all again, and then took a shower and went to bed. It was only 8:18 when he collapsed into bed, feeling a little better after the shower, but his back was sore where he slammed into the lockers. Oh well. He drifted off slowly, unaware he was falling asleep because his mind was still working over his sister's secrets.

Tuesday morning was slightly worse than Monday, because Doyle made a promise of "See you tomorrow" and it was tomorrow, and because his back hurt, and because his alarm wouldn't stop ringing. Finally Castiel found the button and hit it, hard, and the thing shut up.

Dragging himself out from underneath the covers was one of the most difficult parts. He sat up, wiped his eyes, and then threw the covers off. Cold air hit his arms and legs, making his hair stand up. He couldn't hesitate or he'd go back to curl up in the bed. He stood then, and wobbled, before fumbling with a pair of jeans and fumbling with the buttons on his shirt and generally fumbling, because he was basically still asleep.

He banged on Anna's door, as he had the past morning, as he had every school day since he was eight. Anna opened the door fully dressed today, startling Castiel. "Hey, lil bro! Come on." She grabbed his arm and dragged him down the hall. "Morning Dad!"

"Good morning, children," Mr. Novak replied around his coffee. "Have a nice day at school." Anna shoved Castiel out the door, readjusted her backpack, and waved him on.

Castiel was confused. Usually Anna was glassy-eyed, messy-haired, and very nearly out of it on the walk to school, making them almost late nearly every day. Today she was running ahead of Castiel, throwing on her leather jacket and flipping her braid out from under the collar, yelling for him to catch up, so he did. And they got to school early.

"Meeting a friend before class," she said in his ear. Her breath warmed one side of his face. "See you after school. I don't have a meeting today." And that was what offset Castiel, because Anuriel Novak always had a meeting. There was always a meeting. Student council, engineering club, library club. And now, Castiel added, SAGA.

He had a good five minutes until the bell rang to go to first class, so he sat on the concrete edge of a flower bed and pulled out a book. He was very nearly finished, just had the last few pages to go.

A car was tearing through the parking lot, and Cas wasn't reading anymore. He was watching over the top of his book, trying to see the face of the boy driving the sleek black machine, even though he had the face memorized, knew exactly who it was.

Dean Winchester parked his car in the far edge of the lot, and Castiel strained to see him around the truck parked directly in his line of sight. There was already a group of people heading for him, because yeah, Dean Winchester was popular, and a senior, and a football player, and gorgeous. So far out of Castiel's social circle, he only saw the guy in the few instances like this.

He walked into view, and Castiel ducked his head behind his book. He risked a glance over the pages, and watched Dean laugh at something one of the cheerleaders said, and even across the lot Castiel could feel how he was just magnetic. There was a force around him that pulled people to him, like gravity.

Castiel huffed a single, cynical laugh. Opposites attract. That, he told himself, was only true with literal magnetic forces.

He glanced behind him, hoping that no one had seen him laugh to himself. No, he didn't think so. Everyone was heading for the building, and he realized the first bell had rang while he was pseudo-stalking one of the football players.

He shoved the book into his bag and stood, discretely brushing gravel off his jeans. Anna was nowhere to be seen, so he headed inside, only a few stragglers left in the parking lot. Inside the building was warmer than the outside, but not by much. Castiel bypassed his locker and went straight to his first class, afraid Doyle would be waiting beside the locker.

English passed too quickly, it seemed. The class just read from the textbook about Shakespeare, and so Castiel finished the assignment and turned it in as the bell rang. Latin was a bit longer, and biology even longer. The boy in front of him knew every single answer to every single question. He admired the bravery it took to be the only one raising your hand in the entire class.

By the time lunch rolled around, Castiel was exhausted for no specific reason. It was just a long day, he guessed. Something by Twenty One Pilots was playing through his earbuds, and he consciously made an effort not to hum as he read. He bowed his head over his book, munching on a soggy french fry, determined to read the last few pages before going to chemistry.

That didn't happen, because perfection waltzed through the doors and distracted him infinitely. Perfection being Dean Winchester in his stupid red letterman jacket, surrounded by cheerleaders.

Castiel tried. He tried for the entirety of two years denying that guys interested him more than girls. It's against the rules, it's stupid, it's a phase, it's against the Bible. Nothing could do it. Nothing could force him into wanting to date a girl from school, a girl from church, a girl from the internet. Nothing.

He'd wanted to date exactly two guys. The first was the giant star-crush he had on Robert Downey Jr. freshman year, and the second was Dean Winchester.

Dean Winchester just-so-happened to be in the same room as him.

Dean Winchester just-so-happened to be walking towards where he was sitting, alone in the back of the cafeteria. Castiel wanted to shrink into the book, disappear into the pages as the football player walked leisurely towards his table.

Castiel could see that they were having a semi-serious conversation as they walked, and recognized a few of them, including one of Anna's friends, Ruby-something. She used to live across the road from the Novaks.

Dean was grinning, but didn't join in the conversation much, other than the occasional nod and saying a word or two. They were walking in front of Castiel's table, and he ducked his head into the book, scanning over the letters that didn't really mean anything. He watched them pass over the white page, barely hearing the music in his ears. The song had changed to something else, faster paced.

Dean looked directly at Castiel as he passed, smiled, and Castiel saw his lips form "Hey, Castiel," before he was gone, and his group found a table past his. Dean Winchester smiled at him. Dean Winchester smiled at him.

Dean Winchester knows my name.

Castiel reflected on this in stunned silence, replaying how the corners of Dean's wildly green eyes crinkled when the corners of his mouth quirked up. How his hand raised slightly from the pocket of his letterman.

Well. That made today better. And worse, he realized as he walked to math, because now he was distracted and had a memory that would mostly likely morph into a fantasy, which he did not need. Dean was a generally nice guy, meaning he smiled and said hey to everyone. And yeah, Castiel thought, he knew his name. That was probably because of Anna, she knew everyone, and a lot of people knew him as Anna's weird little brother, so there's that.

Chemistry was basically just him staring into space, same for calculus and health. Then the bell rang and he weaved in and out of the throng of people. Then he was being yanked the opposite direction, back into the bathroom, which was basically empty because it had been a few minutes since the bell. Castiel had dropped his notebook and had to stay in health a few extra minutes in an attempt to gather up all his papers.

Doyle slammed him into the tiled wall, and Castiel briefly wondered if everyone saw the same stars when they were slammed into walls, or if his were specific to him. "Hey, Cassie. Bet you missed me."

Castiel made a futile attempt to escape, but Doyle shoved him. Doyle was bigger than him probably 6'1" and 200 pounds to Castiel's 5'11" and 130 pounds, therefore stronger and had the upper hand. "Oh, no, not today." He jerked Cas's backpack away from him. "What'chu got in here?" He ripped the front zipper open and tore through the pencils and pens, then moved to the next pocket.

"Why do you do this," Castiel mumbled, and Doyle shoved him again, and Castiel hit his head again, effectively dizzying him. He fell to the floor, bracing himself against the wall. He wasn't graced with an answer. His head pounded, and his eyes refused to focus. His belongings were hitting the floor, one notebook after another, pencils raining like hail.

He laid in the floor for a while, even after Doyle kicked him in the ribs and left the bathroom. He did finally stand, though, and dusted himself off. There wasn't much he could do for his injuries other than tenderly run his fingers over the back of his head, wincing when he found the lump rapidly forming.

Then he picked his stuff up, found his phone's screen cracked but functional. His iPod was in his pocket, so it was safe. Thank God. Music was one of his only escapes left.

At that moment he thought of lunch and something tingled in his lower abdomen, because Dean was in front of him again, smiling, mouthing "Hey, Castiel." Castiel wished his earbuds hadn't been plugged into his ears so he could've heard his voice, heard his name said in that rough-and-tumble voice.

He had two texts from Anna. The first was annoyed, a quick "Been waiting forever!" The second was longer, and seemed worried. "Castiel, where are you? I'm in front of the school on the steps." It was sent only two minutes ago, so Castiel flips the phone shut and slides it into his pocket, cringes as he attempt to shuffle all his papers back in order, then gives up and shoves them all into his bag.

Anna was pacing in front of the school, and when the front door of the school squeaked open she whirled around. That's when Castiel knew he was in for an earful. "Castiel James Novak!" she trilled, red hair illuminated by the sunlight like fire. Some pieces had flown free of the braid she had it in, and it formed a sort of halo around her head. For a second Cas could see why his mom had chosen to name her Anuriel. She looked positively, terrifyingly angelic.

"Sorry," he mumbled, when he realized she was waiting for a response.

"Sorry? Castiel, where've you been?" Her voice was still a few octaves too high, and he followed her down the concrete steps. "I thought you'd been axe murdered or something."

He bites his tongue to keep from saying nearly. Instead, he says, "No, I just got caught up. I spilled my backpack and I had to pick up all my papers." Which wasn't a lie, he had been caught up, and he had spilled his backpack. Anna scowls, and smacks him on the back of the head, as usual. "Ow!"

Anna jerked her hand away, caught off guard by Castiel's sharp tone and how his face distorted in pure pain. "Cassie? What the hell happened?" Her fingers were in his hair, and she found the bump automatically. "Jesus, you could have a concussion, kiddo."

He let her fawn over him in the parking lot. "I'm fine," he whispered, to convince himself. Anna narrowed her eyes. "I just- I hit my head on my desk?"

Castiel sucked at lying, especially under presure. And Anna saw right through him. "Castiel."

"He's bigger than me, Anna," Cas said, and then Anna was walking, one arm protectively over her brother's shoulders. "Don't do anything . . . rash? Please?"

She shook her head. "I always knew I'd go to prison for murder."

Castiel knew she wasn't serious. Hoped she wasn't serious. Sometimes his sister was a little crazy. He hoped she wasn't so crazy she'd do something stupid. The walk home was quiet and slow, because occasionally Castiel got dizzy and nearly walked off the shoulder on the side of the road, and because his ribs ached with every step he took.

When they finally got home, it was 3:22. They still had time before their mother got home, so Anna made Castiel hold cold peas to the back of the head to reduce the swelling. "And then you have to take a hot bath. Yes, a bath. I'll run the water." Then she was gone before Cas could protest. She should be a doctor, he decided.

He did soak for a long time. When he got out, dripping onto the linoleum, the time on his phone read 4:46, so he'd been in there for nearly an hour. The water had gotten so unbearably cold he'd had to get out.

He realized with dismay his mother was home by then, so he dressed and headed down to say hello. He loved both his parents, but he just . . . related more with his mother. Nancy Milton-Novak was scatter-brained and disorganized, and a generally okay cook. She had bright red hair the exact same texture as Anna's, only a shade darker. She came home every single day and cooked dinner for the four of them, and then went to work at the hospital in town the next morning. Castiel leaned against the wall, watching as his mom laid out ground beef for a meatloaf. She was still in her scrubs. About five, she would go upstairs and change out of her scrubs, and by five thirty dinner would be nearly finished. Six was when Mr. Novak came home, and dinner would be on the table.

She turns, jumps when she sees Castiel. "Castiel, how was school?" Her bright red hair is in a sloppy bun that Castiel thinks well-reflects her personality- beautiful, bright, and disorganized.

"Alright," he replies, because he's had worse days.

She smiles, then turns back to the food. "Can you help me with this? Chop some onions?"

Yes, Castiel decides, taking the knife she hands him, he loves both of his parents equally, but he relates with his mother. His father would never approve of a man in the kitchen, even though Cas likes to cook, baking particularly. This briefly makes him wonder why Nancy Milton, a fun-loving nurse, married Charles Novak, a by-the-book professor of Biblical Studies.

He wonders if his mother could ever actually let loose around his father. He knows the answer is no.

The onion brings tears to his eyes, he hopes, and not the notion that his mom married someone who could only love a book and a God and the idea that people like Charles Novak would eventually get eternal happiness.

"Castiel? You okay?"

He nods, then starts chopping again. His nose and the back of his throat burn. "Yes, I just, the onions."

The night is like all the others. Mr. Novak comes home to a ready-made meal, and immediately orders Anna and Cas to wash up for dinner. Castiel does, even though he already washed his hands after chopping the onions and folding them into the ground beef.

Anna shoots him a glance as she passes him going into the bathroom, and he waits for her outside the door. He's gotten dependent on Anna for dealing with their father. Not that he's a terrible person, not at all. He's just . . . so distant. Like these are work collegues, not his family.

And the praying. Praying makes Castiel uncomfortable. Mr. Novak impressed upon Castiel and Anna that they should pray before every meal, even when they were at school. "You don't have to, Cas," Anna told him on the walk to school the next day. "Dad gets carried away by his faith."

His faith. Anna talked like she wasn't part of the family. If anything, Castiel wasn't part of the family. He looked nothing like the others. His dad had blonde hair and cold gray eyes, while his mom had bright red hair and green eyes. As they bowed their heads and Mr. Novak said grace, Castiel thought about his eldest sibling. His brother Gabriel had left two years ago. Well, left was a light term. Kicked out was more accurate.

Gabriel was four years older than Castiel. He used to talk to Castiel late into the night, bring him to his room down the hall and lay on his back in the bed, with Cas sitting nearly on top of him, eating up everything he said. He still called every week, on Wednesday night. Castiel realized with a thrill that meant tomorrow night. Gabriel was the only one who knew about Dean Winchester, and his real opinions about life and reality and the family.

"Castiel, how was your day?"

Mr. Novak was looking expectantly at his son, and Castiel swallowed numbly. "Good, Father. I passed my Chemistry test." This was the norm, Castiel's classic non-answer answer. Anna smiled at him across the table, hidden behind a blanket of hair.

His father nods approvingly. "And you, Anuriel?"

Anna shrugs. "Alright." Castiel quirks an eyebrow at her, and she shoots a look back. "I've been thinking about college a lot recently," she adds nonchalantly. She keeps eating, but Mr. Novak sets his silverware down.

"And? Have you decided on who to apply to?"

Castiel shakes his head ever-so-slightly. This wasn't a good night, he didn't think. She raises one shoulder at her brother, then says, "It's between the University and NYU."

A vein springs to prominence in Mr. Novak's neck. "And a major?"

"I haven't narrowed it down yet." That wasn't true, not completely. Castiel had seen her grab flyers at the career fair from a psychology clinic and a few other places.

They finish dinner in silence, and then Castiel and Anna return to their rooms. "Anna," he whispers, and she turns, a dangerous glint in her eye. "I think you should go to NYU."

Her eye soften, and she takes Castiel into a hug. "Thanks, Cassie." His ribs ache, but he doesn't tell her, because hugging his sister is something he likes. "Gabe's gonna call tomorrow, right?" she asks, her voice barely audible. Cas nods, glancing behind him.

Anna nods in return, then disappears down the hall.

Castiel intends to go in his room, but he accidentally follows a path down the hall and turns the knob to Gabriel's room. Muscle memory, oops, he thinks, and shuts the door behind him.

Everything is exactly how he remembers it, if a little dustier. The desk in front of the window, the bed shoved into one corner, posters for obscure bands plastered randomly on the walls. There was a splotch on the wall where Castiel had scribbled with a crayon when he was six. Gabe was eleven at the time, and scrubbed the wall so hard with soap and water his knuckles had turned red, then he found paint in the garage and painted over the place with little plastic paintbrushes. They weren't ever caught.

Now Castiel traced the slightly-discolored place with his fingertip and wished Gabriel was there. He was cynical, sarcastic, could be really mean. But he and Anna were his only friends, and it killed him to be apart from his brother.

He reached for the closet door, wincing when it squeaked. He'd come back when his parents went to bed, he decided. As he left, he shut the door quietly and headed back to his own room. Anna poked her head out of her room just as he was shutting the door. "Hey," she hissed.

"Yes, Anna?"

"Come over here. I want some company. I'm bored." Castiel opened his mouth to protest, but she added, "Bring you homework, you dork." Then she shut the door and Castiel couldn't argue, so he grabbed his bag and headed across the hall.

They talk well into the night, and eventually Castiel falls asleep at the foot of Anna's bed. She doesn't have the heart to wake him, so she sets an alarm and curls around her pillow like a cat.


End file.
